Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Oh Gosh...- By Hauoli Kahaleuahi


She is Mahina,
Of the sea, the moana,
The mahina piha.
Some say, whisper,
She descends from Hina,
And others gossip, snicker,
Of her scales.

Black ascends,
Mahina hou blossoms
While she slips under,
Slithering against sea walls.
The kai hugs Mahina,
The Queen Lili`uokalani
Of Atlantis.

She sleeps.
is born so she rests,
Blanketed by limu lipoa.
However,
Her mind wanders,
to a cave she swims,
now in the realm of forbidden dreams.

A single cello strums,
Deceiving,
Daunting sleep with death.
Nails scratching,
Sliding down a dusty chalkboard,
The screams ring her ears,
Mahina in deep sleep.

A man enters,
His people call him King,
Their voices echo the cave chamber,
Shouting, squealing “King Henry!”,
But she calls him Kāne.

Kāne strides to Mahina,
Breath biting, cold,
Behind him leaving an icicle
Shaped on barren rock.
She sees a spirit poisoned and foul,
Intentions devious,
Danger tickles at her tail.

Kāne comes,
In hand “trinkets” he says.
Mahina gazes, cautious yet curious.
Disappointed soon,
She sees a can of paint, of red,
A deep crimson from Italy.
On top, in silver,
A can opener from Spain.

In his mouth,
Left cool from frigid breath,
A straw, flexible, bending
Up towards piercing eyes,
Eager to convince.
Hands steadily
Hold velvet cake pieces
Perfectly sliced.
From each, falling to the floor
Are crumbs, delicate.

Mahina follows the crumbs
To notice more,
Silly string bottles scattered,
A telephone, red as well,
A sprinkler turned on high,
Spraying furiously more cold.

At Kāne’s feet, covered in gold,
A kite wrapped,
A kitten trapped,
A painting of the Arabian Desert
That he boasts was gifted to the President,
To Obama by the IRS,
And now lays with him,
Propped erect in a jewel filled sand bucket.

And lastly,
Left dangling from his neck,
A pendant, where placed
Is the picture of a lighthouse,
One he says she can call home.
He is foolish,
For Mahina knows her home,
The moana.

A roaring sound rips through,
Coming from behind Kāne.
In flies proudly,
A Batman-like shadow.
The people yell “Abhishek!”,
But she prefers Me`e.

He soars heroically,
Floats down and clutches Mahina.
One swift turn and they flee,
Captured by a true man,
She is warm.

Around the neck of Me`e,
A necklace bearing the face of
George Washington,
A hero in his eyes.
Mahina smiles soft,
And then she wakes. 

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